


The Laundromat

by downitss



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bullying, Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-02
Updated: 2013-10-03
Packaged: 2017-12-25 10:54:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/952236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/downitss/pseuds/downitss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas meets Dean at the Laundry</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Laundry

The Laundromat smelled like detergent and burnt socks. The flow of air made the little hairs stand up on the back of Castiel’s neck, and as he reached up to rub it he couldn’t help but notice the lack of people in the vicinity. He was dressed in shorts and an old T-shirt, his brown hair ruffled and stubble lining his jaw. It was the end of his first week in college, and he had been putting off doing any laundry out of apprehension. By doing so, it had caused a buildup of clothes in his hamper, from both orientation week and school. It had been much hotter there than he had been made to expect, and he made a mental note to go pick up some shorts and tank tops from target. He had brought his homework along with him; he had to do yet another introduction paper, this one for his sociology class. He had always found the human race to be extremely fascinating, their struggles and accomplishments, and he was interested in finding out how their minds ticked as a whole. 

It was at the beginning of his second paragraph that the lights shut off, leaving him in the darkness, the glow of his computer lighting up his face but nothing else. He huffed in annoyance, and got up to turn on the light switch, placing his computer on the bench behind him. He walked up to the door, but then the lights switched on again, the cheap bulbs blinding him for a second. His eyes adjusted, and in the frame of the doorway stood another student, a sophomore no doubt, wearing nothing but a tank top, a pair of red boxers, and a smirk. 

 

“ They’re motion activated, you know.” Said the boy. “ Why are you just sitting in here? There’s a TV in the lobby just down the hall…”

 

“ I-I signed up for a class late and now I have more homework to do… so I’m doing it in here.” Explained Castiel. 

 

The boy raised a brow, but his face soon softened into a smile. “Mind if I sit with you? I don’t have anything else to do. Maybe I could proof read your paper for you?” 

 

“ Sure, I wouldn’t mind the company.” Castiel agreed. 

 

Castiel watched as the boy loaded a machine, and gave him a slow once-over. His light brown hair sat up like it had gel in it, but it looked quite soft. His back looked strong and sturdy, but without much distinct muscle shape. The boxers rode up his things as he bent over, bringing a heat to Castiel’s cheeks. He had on a pair of flip flops that looked extremely worn out, the plastic holding on just barely, and only traces of the original coloring remaining. He quickly shifted his eyes back to his computer as the boy rose again, put in detergent and quarters, and started the whir of the machine. 

 

“ Alright, now give me a look at your paper.” The boy stated. 

 

Castiel reluctantly handed over his computer to him, and watched nervously as his attentively scanned it line by line. Dean looked up at him, and Castiel saw his mouth move, his eyebrows high on his face, giving his forehead lines. 

 

“Hello?” the boy asked, “ did you hear what I just said? Can I just go ahead and correct the little mistakes?”

 

“What? Oh, sure! Of course, thanks!” Castiel babbled. 

 

After about ten more minutes, the boy handed the laptop back over. 

 

“ I’ll finish reading over it when you’re done writing. There were a couple grammatical errors, but nothing serious. You’re a good writer!” the boy remarked.

 

Castiel blushed. “ Thanks, I mean for looking at it. And for… just… t-thanks!” Castiel stuttered.

 

A loud beep filled the room, and Castiel rose to empty out the dyer. He cleaned out the lint tray, and emptied the warm clothes into his bin. As he packed up his stuff, the boy stood, hand outstretched at Castiel. 

 

“ Nice to meet you. I’m Dean by the way. What’s your name?” said Dean.

 

“ Castiel! I’ll see you around, Dean!” replied Castiel.

 

“ See ya, Cas!” Dean called after Castiel, who bustled out of the building, face red, and palms sweaty.


	2. Shower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel takes a shower

That evening Castiel was lying in his bed, blankets pulled up to his chin, staring up at his stucco ceiling. The small spider in the corner he had named Fin was remaking his web, despite Castiel’s best efforts to shoo him away with a broom. His dorm room was a single, decorated only buy a large amount of knick-knacks, pinwheels, and old toys lined the shelves. On the wall next to his bed, he had hung pictures of his family. His dad, his brothers Gabriel, Samandriel, Balthazar and Luci, and his sister, Anna. He missed home, but more than anything, he missed the feeling of his family being all around him, the noise, and distractions.

He breathed in slowly through his nose, and let out a loud sigh, turning into a groan. He flipped over, the sheets twisting around his waist as he buried his head deep into his pillow. In the dark, he saw Dean again, bent over in his boxers, the shape of his ass showing through the thin material. He felt his blood pumping, and after a moment of postponement, he threw himself out of bed to go take a shower. 

Grabbing his shower caddy from the top of his closet, he made his way out of his room and padded down the hallway in a pair of his old flip-flops. The sticky sound they had made him feel self-conscious, like everyone on his floor knew exactly what he was up to. The shower room was chilly, and mucky feeling, but it was empty. Turning the knob, the showerhead spluttered to life, shaking a little bit back and forth, as the water poured out of it. 

He couldn’t get that image of Dean out of his head, wearing just boxers, with the edges riding up, his chest sweaty, making the fabric see through, pulling his shirt over his head, his hair ruffling, his stomach muscles stretching, then slowly-teasingly- pushing down his boxers and finally-

Castiel froze suddenly. Someone had entered the shower. 

He looked down at himself- his hand had made its way to his cock, which was completely hard and red. He washed his hands off, and quickly shampooed his hair, all the while he could hear the other person making their way into a shower behind his, turning on their water, and go about their business. He felt silly for worrying; obviously no one was going to catch him jacking off… it’s not like they would bust through the curtain or anything. Nevertheless, the problem remained; his dick was still straight out (and maybe just a tad to the left but not enough for anyone other than Castiel to notice). 

Castiel had developed sort of an irrational fear about what happens when you don’t get a release…. His older brother Gabriel once told him that if you don’t finish your business your dick falls off. Obviously, Castiel was smarter than to think that was true at his age, but he still followed his own superstitions. Trying not to be too obvious, Castiel turned off the shower, packed up his stuff, and reached for his towel. Only now did he realize that he did not in fact bring his towel, but instead had carried with him only a face towel. 

He reached for his laundry bag on its hook to put his dirty clothes back on, but his fingers grabbed nothing but empty air. The bag was missing. Conveniently below the hook, lay a trashcan, now holding old soup, soda cans, and his old clothes.   
Desperate to get out of the situation, Castiel made a rash decision. He held the face towel at waist level, covering himself up, but showing a tent, and sprinted for the door. He reached for the door handle, extended his fingers, and-

\- Fell flat on his face. His flip-flop had betrayed him, folded in half, and caused him to trip, letting his belongings roll across the floor. Groaning, he leaned on an elbow, and propped himself up. His knees burned, and his hip where he had landed throbbed in pain. As he began to stand, two things happened at once; the other showerhead switched off, and the door swung open, smacking him clean in the face. He yelped, and looked up to see Alastair, wearing an oversized shirt, baggy red sweatpants and mother-fucking black crocs. 

“ What … are you doing? Why the fuck are you on the floor? Are you- ARE YOU NAKED?! THE FUCK NOVAK?” howled Alastair. 

“ I just… I’m n-not…” Castiel could feel the tears building up, and his hands started to shake. 

“ Whatever faggot, just get away from me.” Alastair strode past Castiel, and as he walked past him, gave him a swift kick in the side. 

“ HEY!” castiel heard a voice from behind him “ What the FUCK do you think you’re doing?” 

“ What do you care Winchester?” Alastair sneered “What are you gonna d-“

And Dean punched him in the nose. Hard.

Without a word, he took a huge hoodie out of his bag, pulled it over Castiel, yanked him to his feet, and walked him out the door.


	3. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean cleans Cas up

Castiel’s vision was blurry. His eyes stung, and everything hurt. He looked ahead of him, and saw Dean pulling him along by the hand, down the narrow hallway. Dean was stiff, and his feet pounded the floor as he walked. The hoodie was warm, and hung down just above his knees, which Castiel noticed were scraped. 

They took a sharp right into a small room, and Dean flicked on the lights. For a minute, Castiel stood in the doorway, adjusting to his new surroundings like a lost puppy, until Dean dragged him over to his desk chair, sat him down, and ventured off to the closet. 

There he removed a shoebox along with a big blanket. First, he gently wrapped the blanket around Castiel’s waist, and then carefully slid the hoodie off. He then removed the lid of the shoebox, took out some antiseptic and some bandages.

Carefully, he smeared the antiseptic over Castiel’s cut up knees, being careful not to damage the peeling skin, and placed a large bandage over it. Castiel was extremely embarrassed, to say the least, and yet again, he felt his face heat up. Wordlessly, Dean followed up with the other knee, and walked back to the closet. He pulled out a pair of sweats, and came back over. 

He handed them to Castiel, and said, “ Pull them on, I don’t wanna…. “. A flush fell over Dean’s face, and Castiel gratefully took them. 

With Dean’s back turned, Castiel shimmied on the pants, and put the blanket on his lap. 

“D-Dean… I don’t know what to say,” Castiel stammered. “ That was probably the nicest thing anyone has done for me…”

“ Cas, it wasn’t… nice… it was what anyone would’ve done.” Dean stammered. “What he was doing was just-” Dean’s face screwed up as he glared at the floor “ -wrong.”

Castiel pulled his legs up under him, sitting on one with the other laying across his lap. His face felt sticky, and he dully noted that his ‘problem’ had gone away. Sitting there without a shirt on, he felt a chill, and briskly ran his hands up and down his arms. 

“ Oh, here, sorry.” Dean handed the hoodie back to Castiel. “ You can have that.”

Castiel nodded his thanks and slipped back into the baggy hoodie. 

“ Does this sort of thing happen, often?” Dean inquired. 

“What, do I fall on my face naked and get whacked with a door on a regular basis?” Castiel said.

Dean chuckled. “ No, I mean do you get picked on a lot.” 

“Oh, um, not really.” Castiel said. “ I kind of tend to keep to myself, no one ever really notices me.”

“Hey man, you know, you can come to me… I guess… whenever you wanna talk or anything.” Dean said gruffly. 

“ Thanks Dean, that means a lot.” Castiel smiled gently, and ran a hand through his hair. “ I better get back, my shower stuff is still next to my stall.”

“Oh yeah right, sure. I’ll let you go then.” Dean said. “ Don’t worry about the clothes, you can just give them back whenever. 

Castiel got to his feet, looked Dean in the eyes, and said “Thank you Dean.”

“No problem Cas.” Dean said. “See you around.” 

And with that, Castiel left.


End file.
